A Compass or a Map
by Redconky
Summary: Between the president's revelations and Mrs. Landingham's death, staffers are feeling lost but finding solace in each other.


**Title**: A Compass or a Map  
**Author:** Redconky  
**Email:   
****Author's Notes:** The characters (except for Colleen) aren't mine. This is the second installment of the "A Fork in the Road" Series. It is set after "18th and Potomac" and before "Two Cathedrals" and includes spoilers for both episodes. Also, "Golden Slumbers" is a wonderful song by The Beatles that I also have no claim on and I hope no one who has rights to it will mind my reference to it, especially in light of the fact I'm not making one thin dime off of this. As always, characters' thoughts are in italics.

Well, it's long past last call. Maybe there's some place I can grab a bite before heading home. That is, if I can manage to keep food down right now. I know I wouldn't be able to sleep if I tried, Toby thought to himself as he made his way to his car from the White House. Perhaps heavy is the head that wears the crown, but the burden is also weighty for those who serve and protect the king. Toby had always known that, but tonight's meeting about revealing that President Jed Bartlet has multiple sclerosis made this thought even clearer to him.

After a long search, Toby found a mom-and-pop diner where he warmed his hands by clinging on to a cup of decaf. Upon perusing the menu, Toby realized he wasn't hungry - at least not for food. He was hungry for optimism, or at least a solution that would head off all of the headaches to come. He wouldn't find that here. Nor would he find anything like that tonight.

As the waitress poured more steaming unleaded into his cup, she studied his worried and worn face.

"Hey, ya look like ya just lost your best friend."

"In a way, I did," Toby replied.

"Wanna talk about it?" Toby wanted to talk, but not to her. He didn't know whom he could confide in at this point.

"I appreciate the offer, but this is something I have to work out on my own."

"Well, we're open all night and I don't get off until 6, so if ya change your mind-"

"Thanks," Toby said, cutting her off in a soft voice. He needed to be alone with his thoughts. As she walked away, he turned back towards the large window to his right and stared deeply into the night, as if searching for the answer to the question the President so frequently asked: What's next?

An unknown amount of time passed when someone sitting down across from him startled him.

"I don't know about you, but I'm thinking the apple pie in that rotating case looks pretty good right now." It was C.J.

"How can you eat at a time like this? And how did you find me?"

"Toby, how long have I known you?"

"I think carbon dating would be required to determine the answer to that question."

"Exactly," C.J. replied. "I know when you're worried you can't sleep and that you don't want to go home. Usually, you just stay in your office or skulk around the West Wing until you finally decide to go home to shower and change. However, given the events of the last several days, you weren't in a mood to stick around work. I figured you'd go to a place like this, which, by the way, there aren't many of in and around D.C., so you see, it was relatively easy to find you."

"Tell me, did you have special breath-control training to learn how to say all that without stopping?"

"Plenty of practice from press briefings."

The two were silent for a moment.

"Toby?"

"Yeah?"

"Why didn't you tell me what was going on when you had me investigate the leak about the school  
vouchers?"

Toby felt bad he denied he was lying to C.J. when she questioned him about why he was so adamant about finding the leak on an issue, which, by comparison, was insubstantial. He took a deep breath.

"Believe me, I wanted to tell you," Toby said. "But I thought I should let the President tell you himself."

"I understand that," C.J. said. "But next time-"

"God forbid there be a next time-"

C.J. lowered her head so she could look Toby in the eye. "Next time, can you just, please, somehow let me know what's coming down the pike? Or at least that it's serious?"

"How do you propose I do that?"

"Give me a signal. You're Mr. Baseball - think of something."

Toby thought a minute.

"OK. I'll scratch my beard, then behind my right ear."

C.J. sighed, raised her eyebrows, and shifted her eyeballs quickly from left to right and then to him. "OK-first a code word, now a signal. What are we going to do for an initiation?"

"I think this baptism by fire will suffice," Toby said.

"But you're Jewish."

"Then I guess I've got my bases covered then," Toby said in his signature droll tone. This is the Toby C.J. was used to seeing whenever the going gets tough.

"Well, good - you've got a friend to keep ya company. Can I get ya something?" the waitress asked.

"Black decaf and a slice of your apple pie," C.J. replied.

"Make that two," Toby added.

"Coming right up," the waitress said while walking towards the kitchen.

Toby cocked his head to one side, looking at C.J.

C.J. sat up. "What?"

"You didn't sign on for this."

"Neither did you."

"But I feel . . . responsible. I mean, I vouched for him and persuaded you to work on the campaign. You asked me if he was a good man and I told you he was."

C.J. bent down again and looked Toby straight in the eye. "This doesn't mean he's not a good man. He made a mistake. Sure, it was a big mistake that is going to make life hell for all of us for a while, at least, but I honestly don't think he was out to pull the wool over the public's eyes. Besides, you saved me from the unemployment line."

Toby let out a short-lived chuckle. "I may have just delayed your application by two and a half years."

"At least I'll have company," C.J. shot back.

"I just wish I knew what direction we're heading in," Toby said.

"I think we're in uncharted territory," C.J. said. "We'll just have to go with our instincts."

The waitress brought the slices of pie, a mug and a pot of fresh coffee.

"Look, I don't know what y'all are talkin' about and it's none of my business, but ya seem kinda serious so  
I'll just leave the pot for ya and if ya need anything, just holler."

"Thank you," C.J. said.

Even though the same problem Toby was thinking about when he came in would be with him when he left, he felt the burden was a little lighter since he shared it with the rest of the senior staff. It just took the conversation he had with C.J. to make him realize he wasn't alone in this

In the meantime, back at the White House, Josh was making his way to his car.

"Dammit!"

He looked around the parking lot and determined the origin of the expletive. Josh saw Donna pounding her dashboard. As he approached, he noticed a cycle: Donna would turn the key, the engine would make a noise something like a sick cow (or, at least, how he imagined a sick cow would sound), followed by her turning the key back to its original position, swear, and delivering a few hits to the dashboard. Josh reached her open window and bent down to her eye level.

"You know that they know, don't you?"

Donna turned to Josh. "Know what?" she said in an exasperated tone.

"When you curse at them. Machines know when you curse, causing them to go on strike."

"And from what font of wisdom did you gather this information?"

"That which is most reliable: personal experience."

"Ah."

"I bet it's your starter."

"Understanding auto mechanics with armchair engineer Joshua Lyman."

"Well, it's not starting, is it?"

"No, but it could be one of several things."

"Since when are you a grease monkey?"

"Colleen taught me a few things."

"Such as?"

"Checking the oil, coolant, changing the spark plugs-"

"Since when is Colleen a grease monkey?"

"She's from Detroit, Josh. She's been helping me keep this thing running."

"Why don't you take it to a garage?"

"Well, if I had a normal job with a normal schedule, I could do that but this far-from-normal place hasn't even been its own kind of normal lately."

"You know, I'm capable of responding with some kind of blistering comeback but I won't because you're right."

"I'm right? Where's my cell phone? I've got to get C.J. to issue a press release-"

"Donna-"

"'Joshua Lyman concedes defeat in debate with brilliant assistant.'"

"Brilliant?"

"Who ended the Stackhouse Filibuster?"

"OK, fair point. But please, no more assaults on my ego if you want a ride home."

"You're offering me a ride home?"

"Well, I think it's going to be tough for the auto club to get past security at this time of night - or I should rather say morning-and we both need to get some sleep. Grab your stuff."

Donna gathered her things and followed Josh to his car. He unlocked the car with his remote so he could toss his backpack and she could throw her purse and leather tote into the back seat. They settled in and fastened their seatbelts. Josh started the car and Donna turned on the radio, searching for some decent music. She found one that played classic, non-heavy-metal-type rock.

Donna's apartment was only about 20 minutes away from the White House at this time of night, but road crews decided to start working on several of the streets leading to her building. No matter which route Donna and Josh tried, there was a roadblock with bright lights shining from large trucks to help the third shift crews see.

"Forget flowers or robins: you know it's spring when you see the orange barrels," Donna quipped. Josh didn't even crack a smile. Donna knew all-too-well the effect the news had on Josh. It had affected all of the staff in the West Wing, making everyone lose their ability to laugh or even smile. Even if the satellite had crashed into 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue and hit anyone other than the President, the news of his MS had a deeper impact on all of them than such an Act of God could have ever made. If all that wasn't enough, Mrs. Landingham's death only hours earlier made them all feel more somber. However, the brief exchange of wit Josh and Donna had just shared gave them both a small measure of hope that at least they could somehow function together.

In frustration, Josh pulled over into a parking lot. He couldn't figure out where they were at and in his exhaustion he was losing his ability to think of any more alternatives. The long meeting with the senior staff was taking its toll on him. There was a long silence. Donna felt compelled to break it.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked softly.

"Right now I feel more lost than I ever thought I would," Josh replied in a low-volume voice. "To get lost on a road is one thing - but to feel as if you've been going in the right direction and all of a sudden to be blindsided by news like this - they don't make a compass or a map to find your way back from this kind of professional and emotional upheaval."

Donna was shocked by Josh's candor. He didn't come clean like that on a personal level very often. It was about as rare an occurrence as an eclipse. The Beatles' "Golden Slumbers" playing on the radio interrupted her ruminating.

Once there was a way  
To get back homeward  
Once there was a way  
To get back home . . .

Josh got out of the car, the words obviously striking a chord with him. Donna followed, coming up behind him. She caught up with him and placed her left hand on his right shoulder. He closed his eyes upon feeling her touch. He wanted more, but he didn't voice his wish. He debated with himself whether if clinging to her would place him back on emotional terra firma or lead to even more ruin.

"I think," Donna said softly while moving to face him but keeping her hand on his shoulder, "that is why we have each other." He looked up into her eyes. For the first time in days, he saw something that was pure, true and without pretense. Josh saw in Donna's eyes how much she cared for him. As he continued to gaze for what felt like eternity but in actuality was probably seconds, he felt his eyes giving away the same depth of feeling he kept locked away in his heart for her.

Donna pulled Josh into an embrace before he realized what was happening. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. They stood under the parking lot lamp for a couple of minutes when a convenience store a block ahead caught his eye. He gently moved away from her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"I don't think we're lost anymore," Josh said while looking into Donna's eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm willing to bet that convenience store over there sells maps. Let's go."

After looking at their new map and taking into account all of the construction zones they had encountered, Josh and Donna plotted a route to get to her building. During the long ride, they were too preoccupied with their own thoughts to make meaningful - or even meaningless - conversation.

They arrived at Donna's apartment building and Josh got out of the car to walk up with her to the building's front door. The moonlight caught Josh's face and Donna could see Josh's angst.

"Why don't you come up for a bit?"

"Donna-"

"C'mon," Donna said while gently taking Josh's hand. He didn't resist. She didn't want him to go to some bar and try to drown his nagging thoughts. He didn't want to be alone - the weight of everything might hit him and it could prove to be too much to handle at this point.

They got through both the building's front door and her apartment door. Josh noticed there was no sign of Donna's roommate.

"Is she out of town again?"

"My roommate? Yeah."

Donna put her purse and bag down by the coat rack. She kicked off her shoes and headed towards the kitchen. Josh kicked his shoes off as well and followed.

"We've got lemonade, orange juice and milk," she said while perusing the fridge.

"Have you got anything a little stronger?"

Donna raised her head over the refrigerator door and shot Josh a disapproving look as if to say, Alcohol is the last thing you need right now.

"I'll take lemonade."

"OK."

Donna filled a glass with ice first, then lemonade, and offered it to him. She filled another one for herself and they headed for the couch, facing the windows that gave them an amazing view of D.C. They both removed their coats and flopped onto the couch.

Without really thinking about it, they sat down very close together. Josh polished off the lemonade quickly while Donna finished hers in several sips. Her head instinctively leaned on Josh's shoulder and he in turn leaned on her head. Over the years, Josh and Donna spent so much time analyzing not only the words of others, but also the words they exchanged with each other. The past several days had been spent on conjuring up the right combinations of words that would soon be delivered to the press and the attorneys. At this point, the staff had its fill of lexicological gymnastics. Silence was a welcome reprieve.

After a little while, Josh and Donna dozed off for about a half-hour in this position. When Josh's hand went limp, he accidentally spilled some of the now-melted ice from his glass onto his leg, which caused him to jump off of the couch.

"Yow!" he exclaimed, startling Donna with both his sudden moves and voice.

"What happened?"

He looked down onto his wet pant leg. "Spilled some cold water, I guess." He looked at Donna, whose expression changed quickly from irritation to deprivation - she already missed being close to him.

"I should probably go," Josh sighed.

"Do you want to go?" Donna knew Josh didn't want to be alone, but he knew they were both vulnerable right now. One thing could lead to another and . . . well, it was just best not to go down that path. He looked at her and knew she didn't want him to leave. Donna stood up and took his hands. She pulled him towards her bedroom area.

"Donna, we shouldn't-"

She stopped and looked deeply into his eyes. "Don't worry. Not tonight."

Josh let Donna lead him to her bed, where she laid down on top of the comforter. He felt the quick palpitations inside his chest. She motioned with her head for him to follow. The words he said to Toby came back to him: 'I need to trust someone right now'. The one he wanted to trust with everything now laid before him. He approached the bed from the other side and sat down beside her. His uneasiness prompted her to sit up. She gently stroked his forehead and placed her hand behind his neck. She drew him closer and took him into her arms. He sank easily into her and she slowly pulled him onto the bed.

They lay there for a while in each other's arms when Josh noticed Donna began to shiver slightly. He saw a flannel blanket folded at the foot of the bed and unfurled it, pulling it over both of them. Donna shifted from facing him at his side to laying flat on her back. Josh lay back down on his side and placed one arm around her waist. They both moved again so they could each put one arm underneath the other.

"Donnatella?" Josh whispered even though no one was around.

"Yes?"

"I don't feel so lost anymore," he said softly while pulling her flush to him.

"Neither do I," she replied while burying her head in his chest.

Nestled together, they realized they shared something real and rare - even if neither of them could fully act upon nor articulate it. As he stroked her hair gently while they nodded off to sleep, two lines from the song they heard earlier echoed in Donna's head:

Sleep pretty darling, do not cry  
And I will sing a lullaby . . .

When Josh woke up, his eyes immediately turned towards the clock on Donna's dresser: 5:42 a.m. He looked at her sleeping form and thought about how they had spent the night together. Not in the Biblical sense, but in the most innocent sense of the phrase. She seemed so at peace, yet Josh knew it would only take a few seconds after she woke up to realize all there was to face: a funeral for a colleague and friend, an admission to deception, a media circus, and public scrutiny. He wanted to somehow soften the blow of all this for her. It was this desire to try to protect her that prevented him from telling her about the President before Toby did. He never did come up with the words that would somehow make it easier for her to handle, but from what Toby said, she handled it better than anyone else had so far.

As Leo told the staff the news about Mrs. Landingham's death, Josh had a thought that he didn't dare share with anyone: thank God it wasn't Donna. It wasn't that Josh didn't feel terrible that she died - especially the manner in which she died - but he couldn't imagine life without Donna. As he continued to gaze at her, he thought about telling her what he now knew to be true: that he wanted her in his life as more than just his assistant. He wanted to tell her that she filled the empty space inside that had been there his whole life.

Josh gently stroked her face and hair, contemplating telling her how much she means to him. Then he realized this would be the wrong time. He wanted to tell her when there weren't these clouds hanging over them. He wanted it to be a moment free of chaos and turmoil, or at least as close as it could be considering where they worked. As he continued to stroke her face and hair while she slept, Josh made a promise to himself.

When all of this is over - I mean really over - I'm going to tell her. I'm going to tell her that I want to spend every day of the rest of my life with her. Whatever way we get through this thing - be it that the President is removed from office, steps down, decides not to run again, runs and is defeated, or is re-elected and serves a second term - I'm going to tell her. I don't know what day that will be. I just know today isn't that day.

Donna began to open her eyes. When Josh saw this, he quickly removed his hand from her face. He thought he whisked it away before Donna figured out he was caressing her cheek. Donna had actually been enjoying it for a few minutes, but had played possum. She didn't let on that she had felt him touching her.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"You ready for this?" Josh asked.

"I have to be, don't I?" Donna replied.

"Yeah, I suppose we all have to be," Josh said while getting off of the bed. "I'd better get home to shower and change. I'll see you in about an hour?"

"I'll be there," Donna said. She sat up and stumbled slightly as she climbed off of the bed.

After a few paces, Josh turned around and faced Donna. She initially had her back turned towards him while making the bed, but moved to face him when she felt him looking at her.

"You OK?" Donna asked. It had become the most popular question in the White House in the past few days.

"No, but I know I will be - sometime soon, I hope." Josh slid his hands into his pockets and stared down at the floor. Before he realized it, Donna had walked right up to him.

She lifted his chin so he faced her. "We've got each other to navigate through the oncoming storm, right?"  
Josh gave her a half-smile. "Right," he said while clasping the hand that had touched him. He gave it a quick squeeze and let go. Josh walked towards the door. After he opened it, he turned around quickly and said, "See you at 7."

"OK." Donna said with a small wave of her right hand. As he closed the door, Donna made a small promise of her own.

Someday, Josh, someday . . . I will tell you that you will never lose me and that I will move heaven and earth not to lose you.

THE END . . . FOR NOW.


End file.
